


Bath Time

by Yusuke (foxjar)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Canon, Self-cest, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-13 17:03:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17491853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxjar/pseuds/Yusuke
Summary: When Akira takes a bath one evening, Joker decides to join him.





	Bath Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mieldyne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mieldyne/gifts).



> The characters are eighteen or older in this story.

The water is hot when Akira’s steps into the bathtub. He sighs in content as he sits down in the water, his arms resting along the rim of the tub. When he reaches forward to grab the soap, he feels a familiar presence behind him; that static in the air that signals the arrival of his other self.

“I’m surprised it took you this long,” he says, lathering up the bar of soap in his hands. “If you decide to get in, maybe take off your clothes this time.”

The last time Joker decided to materialize while he was bathing, he did so right in the tub, making the water slosh over the sides. It might have been a slight miscalculation on Joker’s part, but Akira was still the one left to mop up the mess afterward. Despite the inconvenience, the memory warms him; it is a comfort to him, even now.

Joker steps into the tub and sits behind him, pressing his bare chest to Akira’s back. He wraps his arms around his shoulders and presses kiss after kiss into his neck, making him shiver.

“You’re being awfully affectionate today,” Akira notes as Joker snatches the soap from his hand and starts to wash his back. There is little that pleases him more than having those hands on him; mirrored from his own, and yet so much more skilled. When Joker touches him, he still feels that fire, and the sudden, quick caresses still tickle, unlike when he touches himself.

Because of this, Joker is real to him, even if he might not be to anyone else.

“When am I not affectionate?” Joker asks, his hands sliding shampoo through Akira’s hair. “You love it.”

Akira nods, more at the hands in his hair than the words themselves. Joker’s hands in his hair might be his favorite thing; even the accidental tugs that have his head snapping back. The slight shock of pain makes everything feel real, and everything else about Joker touching his hair just makes him feel safe: the rhythm of his movements, the repetition of the sensations.

When Akira turns around to face him, he is still wearing his mask. It makes him seem so mysterious, even though Akira knows exactly whose face dwells beneath. It is something to keep them separate at times, and it helps keep him from dissociating.

Joker is always thinking of him, it seems; wanting to touch him, wanting to kiss him. Akira never refuses him, because his desires align with those of his other self. It is a secret just for the two of them, as these intimate moments are all this relationship can ever amount to. To Joker, it is as if Akira can do no wrong. Almost like he is perfect, and Joker wishes to worship him.

Sometimes, Akira wishes their connection could be different. It could not be deeper, as they are halves of the same whole, but perhaps something else: late night discussions of their hopes and dreams, evening walks in the park, dates at movie theaters with popcorn and quick kisses.

They are close, and yet so far. Akira loves how personal it is — how they read and react to each other so well — but he needs more. He needs Joker to come to love him through his own thoughts and experiences, not because he _is_ him.

Akira feels safe when Joker kisses him; like he matters, if only to him. His tongue in his mouth is soft, its movements slow as he explores, no matter how many times they have done this. None of it ever seems to grow old to Akira, and he never finds it boring. While new ideas come to him — different positions, places, kisses — the old ones never become stale.

While cupping Akira’s face with one hand, his thumb smoothing along his cheek, Joker's other hand dips into the water. He kisses him again, pressing their bodies together before wrapping his hand around their hardening cocks. Akira moans into his mouth; Joker’s sexual dominance always excites him, whether he be gentle or rough.

He starts off slow, rubbing their tips together as he kisses Akira over and over, leaving him breathless. His lips are so smooth, so full of love and desire, as his kisses become more rough. His tongue devours his mouth, and it becomes difficult to breathe with how deep it reaches. Akira thrusts his hips up to meet the hand around him, and lets out a garbled moan after a particularly tight squeeze.

It is so easy to lose himself with Joker; so easy for him to wrap his arms around his other self, pulling him closer. He has never been this intimate with anyone else — never been this close — and perhaps he never will be. In the moment, as Joker gasps into his lips, nothing else matters but them.

When he comes, his grip on Joker’s shoulder tightens as the satisfaction of his orgasm rolls through him. He thrusts his hips into Joker’s hand a few more times, riding out the last of the waves of pleasure, before sinking back down into the tub.

The water is cold now, and Akira wonders just how long Joker kept him enraptured. Joker rubs the soap over him again, washing away the sweat and other body fluids before draining the tub.

Usually Joker would have left by now, but he stands behind Akira as he steps in front of the mirror. Akira watches as he snatches the towel from the rack and starts to dry his body off, the cloth soft against his skin, before patting his hair dry affectionately.

“Is something wrong?” Akira asks, confused at the sudden change.

“No. I just wanted to see you.”

His response explains so little, and when Akira slips into bed for the night, Joker joins him. He cuddles up against his back, his arms wrapped around his waist like they are lovers.

 _And if I did date someone — what would he do?_ Akira wonders.

“I would never let you go,” Joker says, his breath warm on Akira’s face as he kisses his cheek.


End file.
